In My Wake
by tum0r
Summary: Based after the episode Sacrifice, the season finale to season 8. Castiel, having fallen from the holy ranks of Heaven, is in need of a home. He quickly finds himself with the Winchesters once again - more importantly, with Dean. Rated M for sexual encounters in later chapters. And other stuff along the way. DESTIEL FANFIC.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, this is my first fanfiction. Ever. So bear with me on the writing of it or whatever else. I've enjoyed writing it so far and I really hope you guys enjoy reading it. Forgive me for such short chapters! I'm trying to keep the introduction to the whole thing very short and sweet for now, as to roll into the rest of the story.**

**xoxo**

Human.

The word echoed through his brain like a drum beat, swimming through each crevice, each nodule, each synapse of each nerve cell.

Human.

What was once an angel, a soldier of Heaven itself and a warrior programmed to stop all things evil, was now reduced to nothing more than just a shell.

A human.

Castiel had been sprawled upon the pavement for what felt like ages. Ages? Since when did he fathom the concept of overexaggeration?

A heavy sigh fluttered from between his dry, chapped lips. His senses were both numbed and heightened, and the confusing mix of the two had him ready to implode. He was depressed, bitter, and agonizingly lonely. He had never felt the weight of such powerful emotions before, but now they came crashing down on him like a wave. Like a tsunami.

Human.

His hand fumbled about as he blindly reached sideways, grasping his other wrist and pressing a forefinger to it. Sure enough, as he expected, the pulse was there, throbbing and beating and mocking him from the depths of his dependent system.

Ice blue eyes which once gleamed with pride were now glazed with a dull sadness, and each flicker of the orbs brought in another sight: a crow fluttering overhead, a streetlight dimly lighting the road, a parked car with one flat tire.

_Where am I?_

He didn't wait around much longer to ponder the question. He knew the dire circumstances and his jumbled brain immediately flashed to the things important to him: The Winchesters. Family. A sigh of relief escaped from his lungs and he reached into the pocket of his filthy trenchcoat, pulling out the cellphone he had acquired at some point in the past. Dean's number was programmed somewhere inside, and quickly he found it, pressing the little green button and holding the phone to his ear as though his very life depended on the device.

Which it did.

After three rings, a gruff voice answered, mumbling almost incoherently; Dean was intoxicated, of course.

"What d'ya want?"

Realization dawned on the ex-angel's face as he noticed his companion didn't recognize the number. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat before proceeding in a monotone response.

"Hello, Dean."


	2. Chapter 2

The other end of the line stayed quiet, dead, and the only audible sound was the gentle exhaling motions of both men.

Or one man and one ex-angel, at least.

After what seemed like a lifetime of absolute silence, Dean finally grasped ahold of his conscious mind, sputtering forth with panicked phrases.

"Are you okay?"  
"Where the hell are you?"

"Dammit, Cas, you shouldn't have disappeared like that."

"What were those lights in the sky?"

The fallen celestial being had hardly the opportunity to respond, though as soon as Dean slowed down, he cut in, his voice gruff and sharp.

"Angels. We've fallen. Metatron tricked me, I… It's my fault."

Silence ensued; thick and suffocating, but broken once more by the green-eyed Winchester.

"Where are you?"

A sigh of relief escaped his lungs as he understood what the question meant. He was human and struggling to accept the reality of the situation, but he knew Dean had pulled through, forgiven him, chosen to stay by his side and help him through. The man's actions spoke volumes to Castiel, and he was choked up over the fact that Dean still thought him to be family.

He nodded once into the receiver before remembering that Dean couldn't see it, though he responded just as effectively to the spoken question; his eyes swept about quickly, analyzing what surroundings there were and assessing the landmarks of the area.

"I'm not sure. There's a building across the street from where I stand. Murphy's Grille."

Dean seemed to understand and exhaled slowly while the gears in his mind audibly shifted into high-speed.

"You're about fifteen miles away. I'll be there soon. Hang tight, Cas."

The line clicked to an end and he was left with a dead dial tone. It was left that way until he snapped the little Trac-phone shut, slipping it into his pocket once more and leaning backwards against a thick deciduous tree.

Moonlight gleamed overhead, illuminating the simplest of things that dotted nature's landscape. Sleek black forms flitted against the night sky; bats, presumably, as the small bodies fluttered around in search of their prey. The road was bathed in a blue-ish white glow, a glow provided from the universe above. The expanse of the sky left Castiel marveling in its beauty, and he remained in such a trance until the roaring of an engine came into earshot, followed by a different sort of black body.

His steel blue gaze shifted aside to fixate upon the driver of the Chevy Impala, and his breath caught in his chest (as it always did when Dean came near, but why?) when his curious gaze rested upon the hunter.

Dean smirked from inside the vehicle, leaning over and opening the passenger door.

"Get in."

And so Cas hesitantly moved forward, slouching over and climbing into the classic car and closing the door behind him – a little too hard for Dean's liking, as seen by the grimace on his face.

The engine revved once, twice, before they pulled forward into the darkness of the evening.


End file.
